


Little Queens

by tentacledicks



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Genre: Apprenticing in a Queen's Court, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentacledicks/pseuds/tentacledicks
Summary: Lady Louna has been a staple of Amelie's village for as long as she can remember. The opportunity to learn from her is one she wouldn't ever dream of turning down.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32
Collections: Worldbuilding Exchange 2020





	Little Queens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fawatson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/gifts).



“I promise she doesn’t bite,” whispered her cousin, a twinkle in his pale eyes. They looked regrettably similar, closer to twins than cousins, even shared the same jewel—it was hard not to read a bit of nepotism in the offer to train her. And yet, Amelie couldn’t help but be grateful. After all, she hadn’t any other options available.

Lady Louna had been the ruling Queen of this district for almost forty years now, her rich black hair thoroughly gone to grey by now, but the fire in her eyes was still bright. The Opal at her throat was lighter, like most of her Court, and Amelie couldn’t help but be grateful for that too. Her own Tiger Eye felt pathetically weak against the darker Jewels of the other courts she’d visited, her father a well-renowned tailor and favorite of the aristos in Dharo’s capital. As much as she tried not to show it, it scared her, the idea of facing all those Blood as equals.

At least Lady Louna was smiling still, her eyes crinkling warmly at the corners as she held her hands out, palms up.

Tentatively, nervously, Amelie pressed her small hands into those elegant, long-fingered ones. There was so much _strength_ in Lady Louna’s wiry body, a kind of strength that had nothing to do with craft, and Amelie couldn’t help but be as awed by it as she had been when she was eight, seeing the District Queen for the first time from a distance when she came to visit the village during a circuit. It was impossible to measure up to.

“I think we will get along wonderfully,” Lady Louna said, her voice warm and rich and deep. And then she winked, a there and gone again flicker across her face, before leaning back.

Amelie stared up at her, fourteen and terrified, then gathered her courage and winked back.

Lady Louna had a wonderful laugh.

* * *

There wasn’t a Queen in charge of the village Amelie had grown up in. For all that her father was beloved by aristos, her mother’s old home had been their chosen one, a sister to the landen village just across the river. All told, Blood and landen both, there were maybe a hundred people scattered across the charming bridge that seperated them. Josse, like her father and both of her aunts, had left the village the moment he’d gotten the chance, his feet taking him to roam as soon as he was old enough to manage.

Like the other three, he’d come back. Amelie wondered at that sometimes, wondered at the fact that her family had been all over Dharo and occasionally out of the Territory entirely, but always they came back.

“Strong roots,” her cousin had told her once, shortly after joining Lady Louna’s Second Circle. He’d been the first in the family to join a Court in several generations and they’d all be very proud. “We’re stuck here, for good or for ill.”

“I don’t think I’m stuck,” Amelie had said, ten years old and terribly sure of herself.

“Well, and maybe you’re not,” he’d told her, eyes twinkling. But it had been clear that he thought she would fall into the same trap as the rest of them, stuck in a little village with gas lamps and barely any Blood to speak of.

She wasn’t stuck though. Lady Louna’s house was bigger than anything else in her small town but still tiny compared to the sprawling estates of Dharo’s more powerful Queens. The gardens were a mixture of sensible vegetables and pretty flowers, the fruiting trees along the lane to its entrance accessible to any who wanted to pick from them. It was a house that Amelie felt comfortable in, could stretch her legs out without cowering under the massive and overwrought entrances and sitting rooms of the aristocracy. A _good_ house.

Maybe Josse thought of it as tiny, or provincial, or rustic, but Amelie was happier here than she’d ever been in Reshmi, Dharo’s capital. And Lady Louna was a good Queen.

“We take care of the land,” Lady Louna told her as they walked through the gardens, wearing a sensible dress next to Amelie’s trousers. “Not just for ourselves, or for our people, but for all the things that can’t voice their needs. The sheep, the flowers, the crops—if we aren’t doing our duties, the land will wither and die.”

“And that’s why we have to work with the mayor?” Amelie couldn’t hide the dissatisfaction in her voice. The mayor of Green Downs had been in today to discuss tithes and taxes with Lady Louna and her Steward; as her apprentice, Amelie had been in the room, but the warlord had clearly not been happy about having a fresh faced girl poking her nose in his business.

Lady Louna laughed, as she was wont to do whenever Amelie had petty complaints. It wasn’t a cruel laugh, fondness woven through Lady Louna’s rich voice, but it was always a good reminder that Amelie was focusing on the wrong things.

“That’s why we have to work with the mayor,” Lady Louna said, pressing her fingers to her lips to try and hide her smile. “He can be fussy and focused on his image, but he’s a good man. They had flooding last year, and lost almost a quarter of their herds. It’s hard for a man of his pride to admit that in front of a young girl. That’s something to keep in mind too: I haven’t had a chance to take you to meet the Province Queen, but too much pride keeps us from asking for help. If the flooding was worse, I’d ask, and have no shame in it.”

Amelie considered that. It wasn’t pride that made her wary of the Queens she’d one day have to deal with, nor was it pride that kept her close to home. But fear was its own kind of leash, and she understood what Lady Louna was really saying—the dance of service and obligation, the respect towards those above and responsibility towards those below, all of it had to be considered when making a decision. The mayor had been offended by her presence, but he hadn’t objected. That was important too.

The weight of that responsibility ought to feel crushing, but Amelie found herself satisfied by the possibility of it instead. Even if she never established a court, _her_ village would be _hers_ to protect and encourage.

Lady Louna’s fingers were gentle as she tucked a lock of hair behind Amelie’s ear. “There. You see now.”

* * *

That confidence was hard to keep hold of in the dark wooded halls of the Province Queen’s estate. Like any self-respecting aristo in Reshmi, the floors were covered by rugs from local merchants, the Dharo style of vivid colors and dramatic patterns leaving bright splashes of interest in contrast to the neutral furniture. Lady Louna was perfectly at ease, unperturbed by the fact that she was deferring to a woman half her age, but Amelie struggled to imitate that calm reserve.

All of the lamps were powered by craft, no faint scent of gas or oil to accompany the light. Trying to light the whole home for a week would drain her dry, she just knew it.

The Province Queen had none of Lady Louna’s casual grace, carrying herself with a high-strung sort of elegance that came with weighty jewelry and fine clothing. To Amelie’s trained eye, it _was_ very fine clothing too—not her father’s design, she didn’t think, but one that he’d mentioned being in fashion for the season. Indigo and deep violet threads wove through black silk, giving the whole ensemble something of a midnight shimmer, the Purple Dusk gleaming in the heavy necklace draped around the Queen’s neck.

Beautiful, Amelie supposed, but too focused on self-image. Not unlike the mayor of Green Downs, though she couldn’t imagine the reason for a _Province Queen_ to flaunt her authority to a set of lesser queens.

Lady Louna’s touch was affectionate when she pressed her hands into the Province Queen’s grip, and she sounded almost grandmotherly when she said, “It’s always lovely to see you, Callista. You look wonderful.”

The haughty, prideful Province Queen flushed a bit, delight rather than embarrassment, and Amelie was struck by the realization that this wasn’t a show of power—it was like Josse, coming home in his Guard uniform for the first time, letting the aunts and her parents fuss over him for it. Lady Louna had trained a lot of queens over the years, after all.

“And you as well,” Lady Callista said, her voice sweet and lilting, her gaze less judging as she turned it on Amelie now. “This is your newest apprentice?”

“This is Amelie, from Twobridge.” Lady Louna gestured her forward, and Amelie shyly pressed her hands to Lady Callista’s, no longer intimidated by the fine clothing and massive house. “With luck, I’ll be sending her to you in a year or two.”

“I would be happy to have you,” Lady Callista told her, her palms soft as rose petals under Amelie’s touch. “In fact, you’ve come at a fortuitous time, the both of you. I have a dispute to settle between two of the aristo families and I think you would be well-served to see it.”

“And _you_ would be well-served by some friendly advice, I’m sure.” For all that her voice was wry, Lady Louna seemed more than happy to have something extra to do during their visit.

“You’ll give it whether I ask for it or not, so I simply intend to take advantage of the offer.” With a wicked smile that reminded Amelie of Lady Louna’s own, Callista leaned in close and whispered, “The only reason Louna isn’t ruling the Territory is because she likes the countryside.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Amelie whispered back, serious as the grave.

Lady Callista had a wonderful laugh too.

* * *

“Why _haven’t_ you moved to a higher Court?” Amelie asked in the carriage on the way back to Lady Louna’s home, kicking her feet ever so slightly. The driver wore the Green, enabling them to take the faster way home. Briefly, she envied him the freedom.

“Why would I want to?” Lady Louna smiled as she said it, and it was clear this was a question she wanted Amelie to consider. Very rarely did Lady Louna engage in conversational niceties for the sake of chatter.

“Because…” Amelie stilled her legs, looking up to the roof of the carriage and thinking hard. _She_ didn’t want to be stuck in a city, having to wrangle all those aristos, but not every Province Queen was. Surely there had to be a position for Lady Louna somewhere? “Because you’re good at managing people. Because you like to help. Because… you’re older than a lot of District Queens? Because you’ve trained some of the Queens that rule over you now…?”

“Those are all things I’ve thought about,” Lady Louna agreed. But it wasn’t the same as agreeing that she deserved better than some small rural district, holding court over shepherds and farmers with only the occasional artisan to make things interesting.

The easy answer was, of course, that Lady Louna only wore the Opal, and the light Opal at that. The Territory Queen wore the Green, Amelie knew that, and most of the Province Queens tended to range from Opal to darker. Lady Callista, deftly competent at managing her affairs and deeply beloved by her First Circle, was an exception. But even that wasn’t true, for how easy it was, because a Queen’s strength wasn’t tied exclusively to her jewel.

A different answer, that Lady Louna wasn’t liked enough by other Queens or the right kinds of males was so laughable as to be dismissed immediately. Josse had been so proud to be Second Circle, and Lady Louna had more people who wanted to serve her than she knew what to do with. Amelie had already seen her send other prospective on to different courts, telling them gently that their skills would meet needs _there_ rather than being wasted _here_. And perhaps that was the real answer, wasn’t it?

Amelie felt her words out, shaping them in her mouth before saying anything, because this question was _important_ , important in a way she hadn’t realized when she first asked it. “It’s because this is where you’re needed, right?”

“Exactly so,” Lady Louna said approvingly, resting one hand lightly on Amelie’s arm. “Those big courts don’t need me the way Green Downs and Twobridge do. And once I find someone who can take my place, I’ll happily retire.”

“Will you?” The idea of Lady Louna—the regal, sensible, constant Lady Louna, who’d been a figure in Amelie’s life for longer than she could remember—stepping down seemed nonsensical. Secretly, Amelie had begun to suspect she’d never slow down, would carry on past the point where most people died and continue ruling with her sense of fairness the whole time. It wasn’t a _bad_ thought.

“I think I will. Maybe in six years or so.” And there was a secret smile on Lady Louna’s face when she said it, a warmth in her eyes that made Amelie consider that more critically then she might otherwise.

Six years wasn’t so far away, but she couldn’t think of anything special about it. The only difference between then and now would be Amelie, who would be a legal adult by then and able to form her own—

“Oh,” she whispered, surprised and honored and intimidated all at once.

“Which means that we need to get you up to snuff before then,” Lady Louna said, squeezing her arm gently. “Now: what did you notice about Callista’s method for diffusing tempers between members of her court?”


End file.
